The lights are on and no one's home. DONE

When the world gets to be too much, Sandi pulls in the welcome mat and hides behind her front door.

I am a big fan of historical and period fiction. While this means I can run categories of European royal titles on "Jeopardy," it also has given me a good grasp of their etiquette too.
What it means is this: If I don't feel well, I am not "At Home."
A century ago and well before that, ladies and gentlemen of leisure could choose to not be at home. Their servants would accept flowers, gifts, cards and invitations but allow no visitors. The maids and butlers were the bodyguards of their day, protecting their people from unwanted intrusions.
Unless you count my barking dogs, I don't have servants*, but this small detail does not stop me.
My car may be in the driveway, you may be able to hear music coming from my house, but knock on my door and there will be no answer but barking. Call my phone, get voicemail. Send an e-mail, no reply.
I am taking the day off from humanity. I turn off all ringers, computers, cell phones, tablets -- anything that will disturb me.
There are days when I simply cannot deal with anything. I don't want to talk to anyone, see anyone, hear any news, read anything current.
I am guilty of peeking through curtains to see who is standing on my porch, but I don't answer the door. They can leave a note.
There is nothing wrong with this. We all have days when we simply cannot cope with the world and we are entitled to absent ourselves from it for a day. Or two. Or five.
When we have a better grasp on things, we can return the calls, the e-mails. A simple explanation of, "I wasn't feeling well" should be enough for anyone who pries.
I think for those of us with all forms or arthritis, auto-immune diseases and other syndromes, not being "at home" is an idea whose time has come.
In these times of being expected to be available 24/7, sometimes it simply is not possible.
I raise the drawbridge to my castle on a regular basis and these days I don't need a really good reason. It can be the obvious: I feel like hell, or I am exhausted. It can be depression, or just that my psyche cannot handle one more bit of bad news. On the other side, maybe I want to play with my dogs, or feed the birds and watch them.
The first few times you let people stand at the door and knock, you will be tempted to answer it because that response has been pounded into each of us. Guess what? You can ignore it. Caller ID makes it simple not to answer the phone. The harder thing is to not listen to the messages. Checking out of e-mail and Facebook is becoming almost impossible for some, but do it. It's good for you.
Take those days of solitude to take care of yourself. Stay in bed all day with some nice scented candles lit to set a mood. Pull out the books you've promised yourself you would read, and do it.
Fix yourself your favorite foods, watch your favorite movies. Baby yourself. You deserve it. I know this, because I know I certainly do.
So, roll up the welcome mat. Turn off the porch light. Take some time to heal your frazzled self inside the safest place you know: your home.
You'll feel better for it.
*Since I don't have children, it's easier for me to institute the "not at home" policy at my house. For those of you with children, a little instruction and you may have your own servant/bodyguards who will greet visitors and help them without getting you involved. They also can take phone messages and keep them for you when you feel like dealing with them. They may enjoy feeling like they have a more active part in help you recharge.

Simple question causes "Fines" DONE

Simple questions causes "Fines"
When it's difficult to answer an easy question


Who would ever image that the simple sentence "How are you?" could mean so many things?
There is far more than a double standard here.
I have discovered no matter how bad you feel, healthy people really just want you to say "Fine." They have no inkling of the degrees of "Fine" that exist.
The majority of people do not understand what it's like not to feel well for more than a few days, unless they've gotten the flu that's going around this year. Even then, that kind of sick, and our kind of sick are nothing alike.
People with RA, chronic fatigue, Lupus, Fibromyalgia or any of the many syndromes we deal with, have a completely different standard of feeling well.
Most days, if I can get up, get dressed, put on make-up and go out somewhere for more than a few hours, that is a red letter day, especially if I didn't spend a week in bed resting up for it.
That's the day I am "Fine."
Then, there are days that I think are good if I turn on my laptop, sit in bed in my pjs and cruise the internet for a few hours, TV on the the background and dogs on the bed for company.
I'm doing "pretty well" those days.
Lastly, there are the days that are so bad you simply stay down and endure until you feel better.
I don't answer people those days.
Frankly, it's been so long since I have felt tradionally "Fine" I'm no longer quite sure what is involved.
I admire the people I know who actually are up out of bed, dressed and ready to take on the day by 7 a.m. Really. Wow.
My friends who work all day, every day -- which I used to do -- impress me. I did it for the best part of 35 years, yet I can't imagine doing it now.
I am slowing revving up my writing career again, and I have wonderful things to do. However, just when I believe I'm doing better and can do a little more, my body gives me a harsh reminder that I am not ever going to be "Fine" again.
All that said, I am trying to think of a way to answer the question "How are you?" with something that isn't a lie, but an answer that will let them know I'm the best "Fine" I can be on that day.
"Okay," is a wishy-washy answer, "Fair to middlin'" is one good where I live, "Still above ground" is a perfect answer to someone who doesn't mind a bit of sarcasm.
"Well" is a contender. It could imply I was going to say more, like "Well, other than the screeching pain in my back, I'm okay," or "Well, what are the other options?"
I also try to dodge the question with something like "Ask me later," or "It's too early to tell" or my current favorite, "I'll keep you posted."
But, the big question is: how am I today?
"Well, ask me later. If I'm still above ground, I'll keep you posted."

Sandi's time is as precious as anyones DONE

My time is as valuable as my doctors', or "It's just a jump to the left."

Nothing, nothing is as annoying as waiting on a doctor who is late for an appointment with you.
It's not fair.
All my doctors have receptionists who call me a day or so before an appointment to ensure I remember exactly what time my appointment is, and to remind me to come a little early if labs or paperwork is involved. They happily remind me if I don't call and cancel the appointment I will be charged anyway.
So, I keep my word. I show up, sign in, pay my money, fill out my forms and start waiting.
It seems, once inside the reception area, I am at the mercy of the nurses, physicians assistants and the doctor. They prove Einstein was right: time is relative. My time becomes less important than theirs.
Occasionally, I've gotten called from the waiting room within a few minutes of my assigned appointment time. Now, doesn't it seem that I should be seeing the doctor right then?
Never happens. I see nurses who take my vital signs and do all the interviewing about how I've been. They make notes in my chart and take it with them when they leave me in a cubicle, waiting for the doctor.
It's then that time stops completely.
I've waited up to four hours for a doctor to drop in to check on me. There always is some excuse, some of which are perfectly reasonable, but mostly, it's just bad time management.
I swear, someday I am going to prepare a bill to hand to my doctor when I've been kept waiting long enough to feel like my time has been wasted.
It's not unreasonable to turn the tables. I could call the doctor's office the morning of my appointment and say I will be there at our specified time, and if I haven't been seen in a reasonable amount of time, I will start subtracting money from my bill.
I have no problem paying for lab work or for equipment used in my appointment, but my time is as valuable as the doctor's, and when mine is wasted, I think I'm entitled to recompense too.
Perhaps everyone who is as tired of this treatment as I am can get together with me and we'll make a plan on how to be treated fairly.
Then, we can all do the arthritic version of the "Time Warp" in celebration.